A Visitor to the Future - 126 - A Fresh Perspective
Stamos' working space was a re-purposed conference room in one of the upper floors of the building. The window struck a board curve across the corner of the room and gently leaned into the space to match the exterior slope, its surface adjustable from white to transparent using a dimmer dial. As we stepped inside, Stamos twisted it to allow natural light to flood into the room, illuminating the interior and revealing what could only be described as a chaotic mess. The centrepiece of the room, a large oval conference table about fifteen meters end-to-end, was completely covered with open books, print-offs, papers and maps several layers deep - and his desk in one corner was so crowded with projections that it looked like a light show.
Stamos' first destination wasn't the table, but a small side cabinet with a long-necked yellow jug placed on top of it. He poured himself a steaming drink from the inside, the liquid a pale grey colour. He savoured the cup for a moment, leaning on one of the chairs of the conference table. He seemed in no rush at all to talk, blinking the tiredness from his eyes.
I walked over to the table, Gatecrash and Dela not far behind. As I did so, I glanced down at the papers below me, surprised to find that many of them were written in English. As I scanned more, I caught glances of familiar shapes and symbols - the U.N. flag, a map of the Korean border, one of South America, and even a small globe, showing Earth as it had been in my time, icecaps still mostly intact. Near the globe were financial projections, graphs and data spanning decades, and tucked away under one edge of a book was a copy of a declaration of war between two countries I didn't recognize. Dela sat next to the table and straightened up to peek over the edge.
"Yes, it's quite a mess," said Stamos, placing his cup down and closing one of the open books on the table, before changing his mind and re-opening it, "I have well and truly fallen down the rabbit hole at this point. Which is why I need expert help."
"Stamos," Gatecrash asked as I was still scanning the depths of the table, "What is all of this? You've got textbooks from the late 2000s next to journals from half a century later. You've even got second world war maps here!"
Stamos scratched his head, "I suppose it's an exercise in understanding!" he said, "A puzzle stretching across hundreds of years! I should probably thank you," he said, pointing towards me.
"Thank me?" I said, confused.
"Yes, you've introduced me to an interesting topic. When we spoke at your housewarming party that I said was working on a paper. I told you that I believed the rise of the Consortium was inevitable - the natural result of the changing socio-economic, political, and scientific requirements for research. I think that's what I said. And you said that in your view, things might have ended up a lot darker."
"I'm amazed you remember that," I said, "You were very drunk at the time."
Stamos laughed, "An experience I won't be repeating! Anyway, you've caused me to question my own world view. I was so sure at the time of my own conclusion - that there couldn't be any functional society today but my own. Post-dependency philosophy speaks a lot about how the only system that can survive is one based upon satisfaction. That if the overwhelming majority of people are not happy with a system then it is doomed to failure - disatisfaction leads to change, change leads to satisfaction, and that feedback cycle leads to continuous improvement."
"Well, that's not true," said Gatecrash plainly, "I can think of plenty of times that disatisfaction did not lead to change."
Stamos grimaced and raised his arms in defeat, "That became clear to me less than a month into my research! It is now very obvious to me that this viewpoint was flawed. Perhaps it is true in a post-dependency world, but not for earlier times. The depths of my naivety never cease to amaze me."
"So you've been doing research? What on?" I asked.
"I may know a great deal about post-dependency philosophy, but it's become very clear that my historical knowledge needs work. Which led to all of this," he gestured broadly at the contents of the table, "Months of reviewing documents spanning from roughly 1930 to 2050. I've immersed myself in key historical events, watched a lot of the remaining videos of your time. I even spent a week watching old soap operas."
"Why that time period in particular?" I asked.
"Because of your response to my proposal - your view was in direct opposition to my own. I wanted to try and understand your mindset."
Gatecrash laughed, "You could have asked Nat to explain it to you instead!"
Stamos' energy had changed over the past few minutes, he seemed bright and alert now. Whatever he'd been drinking had really perked him up - crethica, he'd said.
"That was an option," Stamos admitted, "In fact, it was the sensible option. I should have reached out sooner. Some of my peers sometimes say I'm like a dog with a bone - I won't let it go until I've finished it. I think that's where I'm at now. So, with that in mind, I'd like to check my understanding with Nat."
"With me?"
"Yes, I think this is critical," he said, now quite excited, "The study of your time period has painted a picture for me - that of a chaotic and confusing story which makes very little sense. There were so many different societies at different stages of development. That being said I recognize that our documentation of your time is not perfect - and studying it is not the same as living it. Let me try and summarize what life was like in the 21st century. You had many different entities working towards different goals and often both intentionally and unintentionally working against each other. Those people trying to do the right thing were hard to identify without any of the systems we've grown used to today - and even if you could find out who was doing the right thing, many people might be working against them - sometimes through sheer ignorance. Some of those people were often the ones who were meant to be working together! Misinformation was rife, corruption was policed in some states but not in others - and a large portion of people were in a survival mindset - working day to day because they had no other choice. Am I far off?"
"Uh," I said, "I'm not sure how to respond to that. You went over a lot there - you're right about some of it. But I'm not sure I can confirm a lot of it either."
"Any parts in particular?" Stamos asked keenly.
I exhaled, trying to think of the best way to phrase my response, "Some of what you said was true for me. But I also didn't have the full picture. I'm not sure anyone did. I think you're not far off with your idea of a 'survival mindset' though - but I'm not sure I'd describe it that way myself."
"How would you describe it?" he asked.
I smiled to think of the metaphor, "We used to call it the rat race. Competitive, tiring - and sometimes messy and dirty. But that's not all there was to life - we did have good things too - friends, family, hobbies, interests. From what I know about it, we still had a lot more freedom than people in Gatecrash's time. At least where I lived."
Gatecrash nodded in agreement and ruffled Dela's fur.
Stamos pulled out a chair across the table from us, and we followed suit, sitting down, "That has been one of the most difficult parts of studying your time period. You had hundreds of different countries and states with radically different qualities, with spotty and sometimes conflicting accounts of history. I'd be surprised if I had a firm grasp of even three of them."
"Any favorites among those?" I asked.
Stamos laughed, "Greece was interesting to read about. It's nice to know more about my historical heritage."
"Do you find that you have the same issues studying the Orgs of today?" Gatecrash asked. It was a good point - the Consortium had far more Orgs than Earth ever had countries.
"Not really," answered Stamos, "They're so well-documented - plus, I can always go and visit them. Old countries, not so much. Nor would I want to. Some of them sounded truly awful - no offence intended, Nat."
"None taken," I said. I was sure Stamos would have enjoyed visiting the Netherlands, but he was right, not everywhere was as welcoming.
"I suppose that brings me to my main purpose here today," said Stamos, with a note of finality, "I was hoping that you could shed some light on a general issue I'm having. How did things get the way they were?"
"I'm sorry, the way they were?" I said.
Stamos tutted to himself, "Yes, it would help if I were clearer - I mean, your time, while basic by our standards, did not seem to be without material comforts - or human compassion. Why did so few people have the power to dictate over the many, even against their interests? Or not advocate for an equitable share of resources Why wasn't anything done about it?"
It was at that moment that the absurdity of the situation hit me, and I laughed. It wasn't anything in particular that Stamos had said, it was simply me connecting the dots. Gatecrash and Stamos looked at me confused, as my chuckle turned into a full belly-laugh. It stopped as quickly as it began, so I apologized and tried to explain.
"I'm sorry," I said, "It's just funny! We've been working a similar problem, just in reverse! I've been spending time in the Consortium - today's society - trying to figure out how you all got here - and you've been spending time researching mine, wondering how we ever got there. And I've been asking people for the answers - trying to understand by asking them questions and putting the pieces together. I'm really starting to feel like I'm getting somewhere - Sarkona has taught me what it's like to live in and understand today's Consortum - and Gatecrash has provided me with great insight into the time they grew up in. Dozens of people have told me about their experiences and what they learned from them in a similar way. But - and here's the funny part - it doesn't go both ways. When you ask me the same sort of questions about my own time, I can only say this - I really don't have much idea what was going on. I have no knowledge of the grand plan. I lived in the 21st century - I was part of it - but I can't say that I really understood it. What I will say is that it was complicated. A lot of people trying to do the best they could, but some only acted in their own best interests. In my opinion there were more good people than bad, but that's only my own view. I wish that I could give you a better answer than that, but I can't."
Stamos nodded. Part of me expected to see signs of frustration on his face, but his expression was warm and he looked as interested as ever, "That answer in itself says a great deal - more than you know. Though in general, there's a lesson for me here. I should really have tempered my expectations before asking you here."
"I'm glad that you said it," said Gatecrash, "Not everyone is a historian of their own time - especially in the pre-Consortium times. Most people were too busy living it to study it."
Stamos closed the open book on the table in front him once more and stacked it on top of another volume, "That much is obvious to me now. Something else Nat said has inspired me, though - there are a few other cryocontained from the decades after that I could reach out to. Perhaps they could help me in the same way that the people of today have helped you, and I can start to put the pieces together in the same way."
"I will help if I can," I said, "I've been meaning to share some accounts with the Consortium for a while - Tungsten once told me that it could write up some of my experiences and add them to historical records. Just mundane things. Just don't expect anything profound!"
Stamos simply looked at me, a quizzical look upon his face, "If there's anything I've learned so far," he said, "It's that what some people consider mundane is often profound."
I talked for a good few hours with Stamos after that - sharing some of my mundane experiences from daily life, the Consortium adding them to its records all the while. Now that we'd shifted gears from the bigger questions, Stamos focused on basic questions: what had it been like to work? To study? Even to go out to a restaurant? These were the questions he occupied me with. Without the expectation of having to explain why, the words rolled out of me - in many ways it was like explaining things to a child. Stamos was particularly confused by the concept of tipping in a restaurant, and it took a demonstration from both me and Gatecrash to explain it to him. It was the first of many sessions, marked by a strange sense of nostalgia that I couldn't shake. I'd been living in the Consortium for less than a year, but the struggles of my old life were growing ever-distant, alive in memory only.
It was that revelation which finally drove me to speak with Tungsten.